DT Test 13
by TheWrathOfMajora
Summary: "Test number 13: The concentration of DT has been increased from 60% to 100%. This will be the first attempt with an undiluted solution." Gaster finds there is such a thing as too much determination.


* _Test number 13_  
* _The concentration of DT has been increased from 60% to 100%. This will be the first attempt with an undiluted solution._

* * *

A conjured hand hovering off to the side was writing notes while Gaster carefully measured a red liquid into a syringe with his true hands. The liquid glowed faintly, casting an odd light around his table. A small figure stood beside the scientist with watchful eyes. Despite the smile present on his face, his eyes betrayed his apprehension.

❝Dings, I'm not sure this is the best of ideas.❞

Gaster didn't look away from his work as he spoke, voice low. ❝You doubt me, Sans?❞

There was an uncomfortable silence, a hitch of an intake of breath. ❝No,❞ came the begrudging answer. Eyelights flitted over to look at Sans, reproachful, knowing his insincerity.

❝If you have concerns, you may speak them. However I am confident that there is nothing to be worried about.❞

❝You don't know that this is safe.❞

❝The previous tests have all had the same results.❞

❝But they were _diluted_. This is _pure determination_ you're injecting into yourself.❞

A low sigh. Gaster set down the syringe, spinning his chair so he could face Sans, who took a hasty step back to put more distance between them. The taller skeleton gave the other what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

❝I appreciate your concern, Sans. I know why you worry, but it will be fine.❞

Sans shot the scientist a dubious look. ❝Which is why you asked for me to come in on my day off, because you're _so_ certain it won't go wrong.❞

Gaster laughed, but it held a note of nervousness in it. ❝Never hurts to play it safe. I'm not an idiot.❞ He shook his head, hands fidgeting. ❝Regardless, even if there _are_ unforeseen consequences that come with this experiment, I'm afraid nothing can _deter_ - _me_ -nd.❞

That brought a smile, a genuine one, to Sans' face. A low chuckle escaped him. ❝You _sure_ you aren't expecting to die, Dings?❞

❝Don't push your luck, kid.❞

Gaster reached over to grab the syringe, holding the delicate instrument in his thin fingers. He gave Sans one last smile, which was nervously returned, before jabbing the needle into his arm and emptying the contents within.

The pain it brought him was near instantaneous.

It came all at once, crashing down on him in a ceaseless wave of agony. A burning that flowed through his very being. It was nothing like he'd ever experienced. The previous tests had also burned, but nothing even remotely this severe. He heard the murmurings of a voice, but it sounded so far away, unreachable. Everything beneath him was cold and hard, and subconsciously he wondered just _when_ he'd fallen.

Also unlike the previous tests, the pain never subsided. After what seemed like an eternity of torment, something inside him suddenly fell into place, despite the pain dulling nearly everything else, something screaming out that _this wasn't right_.

 _I'm going to die._

Everything was blurred around him, a muddle of colors and shapes near impossible to discern, but somehow he managed to figure out where the syringe was, that had fallen amidst the chaos that he was caught in. Clumsily, he reached out for it but was unable to get a firm enough grasp to pick it up. Having been watching in horror from the moment Gaster had fallen, desperately trying to figure out what to do, Sans was able to piece together what Gaster was intending to do, snatched the syringe from the ground and plunged the needle into the scientist's arm, drawing out the excess determination from his body.

Slowly, so extremely slowly, the pain lessened. Gradually, he was able to form coherent thought and regain his ability to function. Gaster remained on the floor until the pain had ceased enough to be bearable, the burning still coming in waves but not so intensely. He closed his eyes, breathing shaky. It took a few attempts, but he finally managed to speak.

❝Thank you, Sans.❞

Another few moments passed by before he opened his eyes, and the smaller skeleton offered him a hand, his own eyes devoid of any light from fear and concern. Gaster gratefully accepted the gesture, and it was then that he got the first glimpse of the side-effects inflicted upon him by the experiment.

His hand... was _wrong_.

Although the hole in the center of his palm had remained, the bones around it had fused together into a solid mass. Fortunately, his fingers had escaped the same treatment. His expression dark with grim curiosity.

❝Mirror.❞

Sans shook his head, ❝I wouldn't-❞

❝ _SANS._ ❞

The small skeleton fell into silence, giving a curt nod before turning on his heel and exiting the room to retrieve the desired object. A few minutes pass before he returns, thrusting the object at Gaster's chest unceremoniously. The scientist shot the other an unamused look, gingerly taking the mirror and glancing into it.

Oh. This was...  
well, he didn't want to describe it.

But nevertheless, it was very... _interesting_.

He said nothing, scarcely even breathed, merely giving a nod in thanks to the smaller skeleton before silently, painfully retrieving his notes and retiring for the day.

How very interesting this had been indeed.

* * *

* _Test number 13 has resulted in failure. End result: body mass melted slightly from the experiment, most notably in the hands, one arm, and face. Extraction of excess DT was required to prevent further damage._  
* _It is unknown at the present time if the outcome was due to too much DT, or merely the result of not diluting the solution._  
* _More testing will be required at a later date._


End file.
